Sinful (Undone) by Jennifer Dawson

Author:Jennifer Dawson [Dawson, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contempory romance
Publisher: Jennifer Dawson Publishing
Published: 2015-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

Leo

Forty-five minutes pass and Jillian has become increasingly out of sorts, which I ignore.

There’s a preconception that being a Dom is easy because you have the control and are pulling all the strings, but they’d be wrong.

It takes patience and discipline. And nobody on this earth tests those things more than Jillian.

She doesn’t understand, but I’m probably as on edge as she is. After wanting her forever, touching her, and making her come, all I want is to take. These desires pounding away at me are made worse because I know that’s what she needs.

Only she needs these other things more, even though she can’t admit to them, or even understand them yet.

So I tap down all my instincts and primal urges.

Jaw tight, she shoots me an annoyed glance. “Do you want to go to the miniatures room?”

“Sure.” I keep my voice mild mannered, which earns me another irritated glare.

She is begging for it. And I itch to give it to her. A few times my palm actually twitched, but the worst thing I can do here is give in to what she’s so clearly angling for.

We are in a standoff, our first official battle, and it’s trying my fucking patience. She most likely isn’t even aware of the dynamic playing out between us, but I’ve found experience is the best teacher. Even if it kills me to get there.

It makes me nervous, that it’s this hard. That I want her this much. I’ve become so practiced at keeping myself emotionally distant from women that it’s become easy. I can work a girl over and not even break a sweat. To find Jillian such a struggle shakes me in a way I don’t want to think about.

Right now I’m telling myself it’s because it’s new and the sexual tension we’ve been suppressing between us for years is finally gaining an outlet. I’m not sure I buy it though and it sits in the pit of my stomach.

But I’ll think about it later, because now I have to put all that aside and focus on Jillian.

We walk through tiny dollhouse replicas of times gone by. In silence, we stare into each room before we move on. Next to me, her body is rigid and all her tension is coiled tight, ready to release.

And I just have to bide my time and let it come. Act of fucking god.

We’re looking at a dollhouse-sized bedroom from the eighteenth century when she finally breaks.

She darts a glance at me, licks her fuckable lips, tucks her hair behind her ear and stares into the miniature room with intent. “I lied.”

The amount of satisfaction I experience is out of proportion to her admission, but I play it completely cool. “I know.”

Another skittish glance. “You do?”

I move to stand in back of her, putting my hand on the wood frame and leaning close, pleased at how her breathing kicks up by my mere presence. A testimony to my effect on her that manages to both enflame my lust and calm me down.

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